Tea time with a commie - Countryhumans SovBrit

Chapter 11 • I think I'm in love

No one's POV:

The sun gleamed over the streets of London, the puddles reflecting the light back up to the clear sky. It was a beautiful day.
Britain was already well awake, having ate well and relaxing with a cup of tea. He had singed the edge of his tongue once more with the piping-hot beverage. The dinning room, along with the living room, was a great place to relax in. Wales sat not too far from Britain, on the same table. A dark cup of coffee, it's smell penetrating the air, was just beside him.
There wasn't much for the two to speak about, but that's fine. Sometimes it's good to have company, regardless if nothing is being said.
Besides, Britain was distracted reading the phrase book. Hs mouth slowly mimicked what – and how he thought – the words should be pronounced. All the letters were different to the English alphabet. He simply struggled to wrap his head around it.

"I hope the other three got back safely," Britain uttered, trying to distract himself from the difficulty that is the Russian alphabet (which has way too many letters for its own good).
"I'm sure they're fine." Wales repsonded.
Britain reared his head up from the tea,
"Where are they staying, by the way? I know England has a home here; are they all at his home or..?"
"The other two got a hotel." Wales explained. Unlike the other three, he was actually staying in Britain's house in a spare bedroom.

Tea boy's POV:

A knocking at the front door inturrupted our conversation. I excused myself to answer it, checking the peephole beforehand. Immediately, I recognised two figures. China and Soviet. When I saw Soviet I nearly tripped backwards. My heart beat wildly with... I'm not sure. Why do I feel like this? I'm not scared to see either of these two. Especially Soviet! He's proven to be one of the most polite people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting! My hand shakes as it opens the door. I face both of them.
"Soviet! –" We're close enough that it's not rude for me to refer to him as that, right? "– D-dobro ootpo? (доброе утро/Good morning)"
Soviet just gives me an odd expression as greeting. I've said it horribly wrong, haven't I? I look to China, who also has the same expression.
"Good morning, too, China. I'm glad to see you two decided to visit."
China just nods back,
"Morning."
"Доброе утро, Британия. (Good morning, Britian)" Soviet starts to smile. At least he's not offended by my poor pronunciation. I smile back in relief.
I open the door wider for the two to enter. As they do, Soviet takes off his jacket and hat, and place it on the coat hanger. He's much dryer than what he was last time he was here.
"Would you like some tea?" It's only courtesy to ask.
"Yes, please," China responds.
"I wouldn't mind," Soviet also responds.
I look up at Soviet while he speaks. There's something in his voice that makes me feel... Relaxed? It's most likely his accent.
"Make yourself comfortable!" I start to walk to the kitchen.

I don't mind brewing an extra cuppa or two, especially for guests who are happy to be here! It's almost as if... It were my own family. I shake the feeling aside and go back to the dinning room, both cups in hand and biscuits too! Can't have tea without biscuits. Can't have biscuits without tea.
It's very quiet in the living room. Silent even. Should I strike up conversation?—

"Britian," Soviet starts, "how have you been?"
Looks like I won't need to. I sit close by Soviet, unable to hide a pleasent smile. I am very happy that he's here right now.
"I've been fine. And you?"
"То же самое (same here), fine as well."
Despite not understanding what he says, I love whenever he speaks Russian. It makes his voice sound so confident! Wait... what am I thinking!? Of course someone will sound better in their native language! ... Still though– I have another guest here! I should ask how they are. I look at China, who doesn't seem very focused on me and Soviet. He looks more interested in Wales, but neither of them are saying anything. Good thing I'm about to break this awkwardness.
"How are you, too, China?"
China twists his head to me,
"Fine, too."
"Why did you ask for me to come here?" Soviet suddenly asks.
I get flustered at the question. Why? It's not a weird question. I start to stutter out a response.
"Oh, well, I just wanted you to visit me, is all."
Am I blushing!? No, no, I shouldn't be doing that! That's a queer (odd) thing to do – especially for a guest!
But... Soviet doesn't seem to mind. He looks rather amused, if anything.
"That's nice to hear–" he responds, "–that you enjoy my company. I enjoy yours, too."

The feeling hits me. I've felt this before. It's exactly how I felt when I married France. When I fell in love with her. When I could love her. I can't say anything. How could I love a man!? And this quick after the divorce!?

My thoughts are relieved by a knocking at the door. Who else could it be? I excuse myself and go answer.

China's POV:

Once Britian leaves I pass a small glance to Soviet. He's acting very peculiar today. I can tell from Soviet's expression that he agrees with me full heartedly on it, too. I look back to Wales, who isn't fussed at all. All I can smell is that coffee he's drinking. Strange. Wouldn't he have tea?
"Do you not drink tea?"
"Not often, no. I prefer coffee," he's quick to reply.
Still... I can't make out any expression or thought from him – and that's the one thing I always look for in people.
"What was your name, again?" Soviet asks.
Not even a twinge of disappointment. I'd be upset if someone couldn't remember my name. How does he manage that – to not be or even look upset about it?
"Wales," he tuts, "and you're USSR? Or can I just call you Soviet?"
He really isn't bothered that I and Soviet – a well known superpower by the by – are sitting here, is he? He's way too calm for this. I gotta hand it him, he'd be good in an interrogation. I think Soviet has the same idea;
"It is a more personal name, but you can call me by that if you want."
"Alright Soviet," Wales gives a small chuckle at the his own words.
I think that's the first time I've actually seen some sort of emotion, or expression, come out of him. It's just as endearing as how he usually acts.

Britain returns to the room with a worried look on his face. I wonder what's wrong. I shouldn't ask. It's not my business.
"Scotland just knocked at the door," looks like I don't need to ask anyways, "he asked if I'd seen England about."
Me and Soviet look at each other. No words need to be spoken between us.
"Really? Why?" Wales asks.
"Apparently he hasn't come back from the pub last night – like they lost him..? I hope he's alright," Britain puts his hand on his head.
Soviet spoke up,
"I'm sure he is fine."
It seemed to calm Britain. He nods as an awkward smile appears on his face. What is up with him today?
"He usually goes elsewhere if he gets that drunk," to my surprise, Wales also speaks up, "he'll probably be back within a few hours."
This is great news to hear. It means Soviet and I are off the hook. We won't be suspected.
We both glance at each other once more.

England will be back in a few hours. Or more found if anything. We're not sure in what condition. We've left that up to North.

But he shouldn't have been a liability.

I look back at the other two and notice that Wales is staring at us. He doesn't suspect anything, does he?

His expression... I can't read it at all. Don't tell me he's a liability, too. No, he can't be. He isn't bothered by us befriending Britain, so why would he suspect anything!? I'm certain he doesn't. And I'd hate it if he does. Even if it's a disadvantage to me that I can't tell what he's thinking, I can't help but be endeared by it. I'd rather someone like him sticks around.

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((You are all going to love the next chapter so much. I swear on my life. But, I shouldn't spoil anything :)) just know you lot will love it.))